A Series of Fortunate Events
A study of any memory of Jona would undoubtedly end in a smile if not outright joy; this has been my experience. I humbly submit my recollections and minor reflections in this light and hope that it may cast a reflection on your own moments of joy with Jonathan.
I met Jona a little over ten years ago through our good friend David Rosales. Throughout the time I knew him, we grew to know each other best on the golf course. It was on the golf course that I found my nickname for him, Wonderboy (as in “it’s a wonder he is always late, he lives a half mile away!” or “I wonder how he came up with that score?”). We had many a good walk and more than a few stories on local golf courses: like the time I almost ran him over with a speeding golf cart because my water bottle got stuck under the brake pedal while off-roading near the naval base. I managed to veer off at the last moment, missing him by inches, and introduced the once working cart to a tree stump. I felt so bad that I almost mowed him down, he laughed. He always laughed when we golfed, be it from the displays of the teenage angst that I had in my thirties or from our countless golf course adventures. But, I digress, this is not the story I intended to share.
It was a cloudless, beautiful day in K-Town when Jona took me up on my invitation to golf my favorite local spot, Roosevelt Golf Course in Griffith Park. My surprise from him showing up on time was muted by my mission: I really wanted to impress Jona that day. You see, my friends and I were in our mid-twenties when we met 17-year old Jona and usually looked upon him, admittedly with some arrogance, as “the kid” and felt a responsibility, be it a slightly misguided one, to “make sure he doesn’t get into any trouble” (basically: avoid a phone call from his mom…. or avoid David being called by Jona’s mom to be exact). Even as he matured into more of an adult than I am ever likely to be, he humored us despite everyone knowing full well that he did not need any guidance from us. If anything, it was the other way around.
Regardless, I wanted to make a good impression and to earn just a little of the respect he so graciously afforded me. The day cooperated by giving us beautiful vistas of downtown L.A. as we teed off at the foot of James Dean’s Griffith Observatory. We crossed paths with coyotes and a family of resting deer was kind enough to let us play through their shady fairway respite (that’s right, we hit the fairway). We had a great day on the course and had a perfect post game meal at one of my favorite joints, Zankou Chicken in Los Feliz. In retrospect, it was such a simple day, but so profound for me in my understanding of Jona and in grasping the significance of my having the opportunity to walk the earth and share thoughts with such a person. I knew very early on that he was incredibly intelligent even though he felt no need to make anyone aware of it and I knew he was very confident even though he kindly allowed us to feel we were looking out for him. However, on that day I came to understand a little about what allowed him to navigate our world with such humble, perceptive confidence: I think it was in part that he knew he was very well loved and respected by those who knew him and, more importantly, he knew it was mutual. I believe this to be a testament to his wonderful family and his dedicated friends.
You see, juxtaposing the things I learned that simple day with Jona and that of his recent departure, I have come to appreciate what knowing Jonah did for me. For me, Jona is a call to action. A call to live an outstanding life with the deft and strength to do so humbly. A call to appreciate. A call to love and be loved. Jona is, to me, by no means a cautionary tale: if anything, he is a template. A template for how to navigate this life with respect and sublime cool. Thank you Jona.
I met Jona a little over ten years ago through our good friend David Rosales. Throughout the time I knew him, we grew to know each other best on the golf course. It was on the golf course that I found my nickname for him, Wonderboy (as in “it’s a wonder he is always late, he lives a half mile away!” or “I wonder how he came up with that score?”). We had many a good walk and more than a few stories on local golf courses: like the time I almost ran him over with a speeding golf cart because my water bottle got stuck under the brake pedal while off-roading near the naval base. I managed to veer off at the last moment, missing him by inches, and introduced the once working cart to a tree stump. I felt so bad that I almost mowed him down, he laughed. He always laughed when we golfed, be it from the displays of the teenage angst that I had in my thirties or from our countless golf course adventures. But, I digress, this is not the story I intended to share.
It was a cloudless, beautiful day in K-Town when Jona took me up on my invitation to golf my favorite local spot, Roosevelt Golf Course in Griffith Park. My surprise from him showing up on time was muted by my mission: I really wanted to impress Jona that day. You see, my friends and I were in our mid-twenties when we met 17-year old Jona and usually looked upon him, admittedly with some arrogance, as “the kid” and felt a responsibility, be it a slightly misguided one, to “make sure he doesn’t get into any trouble” (basically: avoid a phone call from his mom…. or avoid David being called by Jona’s mom to be exact). Even as he matured into more of an adult than I am ever likely to be, he humored us despite everyone knowing full well that he did not need any guidance from us. If anything, it was the other way around.
Regardless, I wanted to make a good impression and to earn just a little of the respect he so graciously afforded me. The day cooperated by giving us beautiful vistas of downtown L.A. as we teed off at the foot of James Dean’s Griffith Observatory. We crossed paths with coyotes and a family of resting deer was kind enough to let us play through their shady fairway respite (that’s right, we hit the fairway). We had a great day on the course and had a perfect post game meal at one of my favorite joints, Zankou Chicken in Los Feliz. In retrospect, it was such a simple day, but so profound for me in my understanding of Jona and in grasping the significance of my having the opportunity to walk the earth and share thoughts with such a person. I knew very early on that he was incredibly intelligent even though he felt no need to make anyone aware of it and I knew he was very confident even though he kindly allowed us to feel we were looking out for him. However, on that day I came to understand a little about what allowed him to navigate our world with such humble, perceptive confidence: I think it was in part that he knew he was very well loved and respected by those who knew him and, more importantly, he knew it was mutual. I believe this to be a testament to his wonderful family and his dedicated friends.
You see, juxtaposing the things I learned that simple day with Jona and that of his recent departure, I have come to appreciate what knowing Jonah did for me. For me, Jona is a call to action. A call to live an outstanding life with the deft and strength to do so humbly. A call to appreciate. A call to love and be loved. Jona is, to me, by no means a cautionary tale: if anything, he is a template. A template for how to navigate this life with respect and sublime cool. Thank you Jona.